


When the Coffee Maker Breaks

by CanadianTrooper



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Misunderstandings, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-11
Updated: 2019-02-25
Packaged: 2019-10-26 06:23:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,876
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17740538
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CanadianTrooper/pseuds/CanadianTrooper
Summary: All things considered, Thorin counted himself lucky that Bilbo was taking this so lightly.“I’m going to need you to fill me in here because I feel like I may have missed a few steps in our relationship,” Bilbo grinned.“There is no relationship.”“And yet, your sister seemed so utterly convinced that we were living together.” Thorin flinched, Bilbo’s smile turned into a smirk as he continued, “So, while I pillage your cupboards for that canister of tea I bought, would you care to explain what is going on?”





	1. The Resident From 2B

**Author's Note:**

> More tags will be added as the story develops

The coffee maker was broken.

That alone should have been reason enough for Thorin to crawl back into bed and remain there for the rest of the day. Because really, with no coffee in his system, his day could only go downhill.

The second sign was the quick knocks that resounded against his door, light but urgent. Thorin should not have had to deal with anyone who had the energy to knock urgently in the morning when he didn’t even have coffee.

Dis was supposed to be stopping by, though this was early even for her. Of course, she probably wanted to give herself time to properly snoop through his place, looking for evidence that he had been doing some kind of socializing. Which he had. He had grabbed a beer with Dwalin after work just a week ago.

Or maybe that was two weeks ago.

It was difficult to keep track of those things when his schedule revolved around the planning of his newest project – the reconstruction of the city bank downtown. And the building designs weren’t going to draw themselves.

He threw open the door and stepped aside before his sister could bulldoze her way through him. Instead, he watched a small man with curly hair, clothed in nothing more than a pair of flannel pyjama pants, stroll past looking concerningly comfortable.

It took a moment of scrutiny before he could identify the stranger as the neighbouring occupant across the hall, 2B.

They had passed each other going up and down the stairs a few times, exchanged a few simple hellos and good days in the month or so it had been since he moved in, but nothing more. Thorin didn’t even know his name.

“Can I help you?” Thorin stammered, trying to avoid staring at the smooth expanse of chest and soft belly in front of him. It seemed unfair that even in the other's state of undress, Thorin was the only one blushing.

2B turned to face him, and while Thorin’s head remained obstinately turned to the side, his traitorous eyes couldn’t help but wander back to the figure in front of him.

He stood perhaps a head shorter, with honey curls rumpled as if he had just got out of bed; his clothing seemed further evidence of this fact. He was soft around the middle and the pants clung around a pert bottom just so-

The man cleared his throat, grinning as if he could read every one of the thoughts that had flew through his mind.

“Good morning,” 2B began. “You wouldn’t happen to have a phone I could borrow? I’m- er- locked out of my place.”

Thorin raised a sceptical eyebrow, which only brought another innocent smile from the man.

He walked to the kitchen counter, grabbing his cell phone and handing it to the man. “Most people have a mobile on them for this sort of thing,” he said with a small frown.

2B grabbed the phone and waved away the comment. “Right. Well. My phone was left in my room, unfortunately," he said.

He wandered through the open living room of the apartment, the layout was no doubt identical to his own. “You mind if I use the washroom as well?”

He headed down the hall before Thorin could even give a proper answer, leaving the large man in the kitchen gaping at his invaded space.  
Crawling back into bed was becoming a much more tempting way to spend the rest of his day.

However, as appealing as that sounded, the option was taken away by the arrival of a second guest. Though, unlike the first, Dis did not even bother knocking, instead choosing to throw the front door open and make her usual dramatic entrance.

“Good morning brother,” she said, eyeing his own attire of loose sweats and an old band shirt. “You’re looking as put together as always.”

Thorin hit the coffee machine, praying in vain that it would work.

“I’m glad to see you taking a day off,” she commented lightly, depositing a bag of groceries onto his counter.

“I’m actually working from home today.”

Her disapproving stare would have wilted lesser men, but Thorin was not so weak as to cower before his sister. He did, however, move to help her with the groceries and avoid all eye contact for the next while.

Dis was not to be so easily put off though. “Frerin came by the other day. He brought a pretty little friend with him.”

Thorin sighed at the not so subtle tactic. Dis continued, ignoring his unappreciated eye rolls. “You do remember what friends are, right brother? I know regular human interactions are a bit out of your comfort zone, but most people experience them quite regularly.”

Thorin opened his mouth to argue, but Dis raised a silencing finger. “Going out with Dwalin once a month where you do nothing but drink and grunt at each other doesn’t count.”

Thorin’s lip jutted out in a way that was identical to Dis’ sons. It had been an endearing look at 5 years old, but there was no way to take it seriously on her 36 year old brother.

Dis finished putting the groceries away in the fridge and pantry and turned to Thorin with a new, serious look in her eye.

“You’re not getting any younger, Thorin. And I know that you appreciate your solitude, but you need someone who can take care of you.” She motioned around the kitchen she had just filled, and around the empty place. “You need someone to bring something into your life so you can actually enjoy it.”

She looked like she had more to say so Thorin waited in martyred silence, but Dis’ attention was caught on something behind Thorin’s shoulder.

He turned, eyes widening in horror as he remembered his other unexpected guest. His neighbour looking uncertainly between the two Durins.

“Hello,” he said, giving an unsure wave to Dis.

His curls were still a mess and in his half-dressed state, emerging from the hall that led to both the bathroom and Thorin’s bedroom, they both realized exactly what this must look like.

His sister’s eyes were wide and Thorin couldn’t remember the last time Dis was caught off guard. She was a single mother of two especially rowdy boys. She barely batted an eye raising them when they tackled her, or dragged mud, grass, or small animals into the house. And their antics had hardly ceased even as young adults.

A beat passed and Dis was able to collect herself. She turned to Thorin then, somehow conveying both humour and murder in her eyes.

“Why didn’t you tell me you had company?” She asked, wiping her hands on a tea towel and extending one towards 2B.

Thorin cleared his throat awkwardly. “Right, well, this is- uh-” and wasn’t that fantastic? Because Thorin didn’t actually know the name of his neighbour.

“Bilbo Baggins, at your service.” The man – Bilbo, said, stepping forward to give Dis a firm handshake.

She nodded in approval. “I’m Dis, Thorin’s younger and infinitely more charming sister.”

“I don’t doubt it,” he laughed.

“I was just dropping off some groceries, so I should be heading out now.” She turned to Bilbo and whispered loud enough to ensure Thorin could hear. “He’d feed off of frozen meals and age-old grudges if I didn’t come around every now and then.”

Bilbo nodded sagely. “I’m glad you did then. I was just thinking of preparing some breakfast.”

He strolled past both Dis and Thorin then, grabbing a few eggs from the fridge and opening up multiple drawers until he located a bowl and a whisk. “Scrambled eggs, good with you?” He asked, looking at Thorin this time.

And Thorin, struck speechless yet again, only gave a short nod, unable to move any other part of his body.  
The two Durins watched as Bilbo extracted a frying pan from a lower drawer and shredder from the adjacent one and began simultaneously prepping the eggs, cutting vegetables, and shredding cheese.

When he looked over at Dis, her smile at the seemingly domestic scene was absolutely radiant.

She gave Thorin a quick kiss on his cheek and then headed for the door, Thorin following woodenly behind her.

“He certainly seems to have everything under control,” she said, pausing to look back at the man busying himself preparing food that was not his in a kitchen that was also not his own. “And I will be seeing you this weekend, yeah?”

“Of course.”

Dis nodded in approval and then left the apartment, throwing Thorin one last genuine smile before the door closed behind her.

He remained in front of the door for a few moments, leaning against it and trying to calm down his racing heart.

How long had it been since he had seen Dis smile like that? So genuinely pleased. Like he had finally done something right.

Finally collecting himself, he walked back into the kitchen where Bilbo was serving the eggs on a plate, whistling a light tune and swinging his hips to their own rhythm.

Thorin collapsed into one of the stools at the counter.

The whistling died off as Bilbo pushed a plate in front of Thorin and leaned against the messy counter top, shovelling back his own breakfast.

“She seems nice.”

“She is a meddling nuisance is what she is.”

Bilbo chuckled, reaching towards the coffee maker until he noticed the obviously empty pot.

Thorin wanted to comment about how inappropriately comfortable the man seemed to be in his house, but his stomach had greater needs to be met.

“So, Thorin was it? Bilbo Baggins,” he said, extending a hand across the counter.

“Yes, I gathered as much from…” Thorin gestured vaguely, hoping to convey the entire scene that had just occurred in his movements. Bilbo’s arm dropped, though the confident smile never wavered.

“Right, well, it still seemed polite to officially introduce myself.” He explained all proper.

“And a good thing you took over introductions with my sister. I could hardly present you as mister resident of 2B.”

“Indeed. And I’m grateful I finally have a proper name for you, rather than mister tall, dark, and handsome in 2D. Though I may continue to call you that anyway," Bilbo said with a wink.

Thorin blanched.

With ears burning pink and no more food on his plate to distract him, Thorin fumbled with his dishes, barely managing to get them to the sink.  
“Has anyone ever told you how adorable you get when flustered?” Bilbo chuckled, adding his own empty plate to the dirty pile.

Thorin grumbled under his breath, flushing further and hating himself for it.

Bilbo patted his cheek teasingly, and Thorin spluttered indignantly. “Has anyone ever told you that you can be a real ass?”

Bilbo’s smile grew into something predatory and despite being over a foot taller, Thorin felt distinctly like the smaller man.

“I took home a lovely girl last night whom I have no intention of calling or ever seeing again, and am waiting for her to leave my flat so that I don’t have to tell her these things in person. So, as you can imagine, I have been told as much by a lot of people.”

Thorin’s jaw dropped. He reeled it in again to try and form some sort of reply, but it fell open again.

“Well… G-good,” he stuttered, soldiering through this new bit of information. “You can add me to the list. Not the bed and run list. The list of people who think you’re an ass.”

As if on cue, the opening and closing of a door echoed across the hall. The walls in this building really did little for sound insulation. Bilbo jogged to the front door and peered through the keyhole.

He had to lift himself slightly on his toes and Thorin would later deny having ever enjoyed the view of the man’s backside that was presented to him.

“So you were using my place to hide?” Thorin stated dryly.

Bilbo gave a helpless shrug. As if it this truly couldn’t be helped. “Like I said, I try to avoid awkward morning conversations with bed mates.”

“Because awkward morning conversations with your neighbour are so much better?”

“Infinitely,” Bilbo answered with another wink.

“I think it’s safe to return then,” said Thorin, by way of changing the subject.

Bilbo nodded and opened the door slowly, peering both ways carefully before exposing himself to the open hall. He turned around and gave Thorin a final winning smile. “Have a good day, Thorin.”

And then he was gone. And Thorin was not regretful of that. Not one bit.

It was the lack of coffee.

He was simply insensible without a decent amount of coffee in him.

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

 

The next encounter Thorin had with Bilbo Baggins was two days later in the evening after a long day of work.

He was making his way around the corner of the building armed with a two week built up garbage bag and the voice reached him before anything else. Thorin automatically froze at the sound of it.

Sure enough, standing in front of the disposal bin with a bag in one hand and mobile in the other, was mister resident of 2B, Bilbo Baggins.

Unlike their first encounter, he was both fully clothed and presentable looking. So despite initial impressions, Bilbo must have had some sort of respectable job. The confident smile was also gone, and an anxious furrow appeared between his brows at the conversation he was having.

Thorin approached slowly, catching only one side of the exchange. Bilbo drummed his fingers against his thigh. “-Yes well, sorry love. You know how it is at the office… Oh right. I did say that… Yes well, even archaeologists have to go into the office sometimes. Research and writing papers and what not…. Right, well I had a lovely time too, but I will be going out of town for awhile… No don’t worry… No that’s alright… No, that’s not necessary… Alright, have a good day too.”

Bilbo heaved a sigh and pocketed the phone before he finally noticed the company present. His expression immediately cleared, giving way to that ever cheerful, ever obnoxious smile of his.

“Good evening, Thorin.” He called with a small wave. “It seems our destiny is always accidentally running into each other.”

“I would hardly call our last meeting accidental; just the antics of a rather obtrusive neighbour.” Thorin replied, strolling past Bilbo and opening the lid of the tall bin.

“That’s if you’re assuming that your door was the first and only one I tried.” Thorin turned back to Bilbo with a challenging eyebrow raised, Bilbo continued, “Ms. Higgins does brew a lovely morning tea, after all.”

“Then I will make sure to send you her way the next time you come intruding.” Thorin said and heaved the garbage bag into the bin.

“What makes you so sure there will be a next time?”

Thorin levelled him with a very pointed look. “Because you seem the type to make yourself comfortable in someone else’s home very fast.”

Bilbo shuffled forward with his own bag, giving an indignant sniff. He heaved the load onto his shoulders and up, but even stretched onto his toes the bag did not seem like it wanted to go into the dumpster.

“Some people,” he said, giving a small hop and grunt, “would call that sociable,” another attempted jump, “and endearing.”

With a roll of his eyes, Thorin plucked the bag from Bilbo’s arms, momentarily thrown by how heavy it actually was, before steadying himself and tossing it over the side.

“I call it hiding and freeloading,” he retorted, already heading back to the building entrance.

“I do so enjoy our talks, Thorin,” said Bilbo, jogging to catch up, but then heading in the opposite direction down the street.

Thorin grunted in response.

“And I will see you Saturday morning!”

“Wait, what?!”

Bilbo disappeared around the corner.


	2. He Would Kill for His Family, But He Also Just Might Kill His Family

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which a deal is struck.

Thorin had never liked surprises. But despite that ever true fact, Thorin found himself groaning internally at how predictably, and expectedly horrible his family dinner was.

While Dis could be a truly terrifying authoritative figure to her two young adult sons, she was unfortunately at the stage of parenthood where – for the sake of her own sanity – she no longer cared about the antics of her children, so long as they weren’t putting anyone else in imminent danger.

This, in addition to the terrible influence that was their Uncle Frerin, was why Thorin’s nephews were currently pouring the last of the keg they had brought to the family dinner (and honestly who brings an entire keg to a family bbq) into the old kiddie pool they had scrounged from the storage shed.

All they were supposed to bring back were two extra chairs. That was all that was requested of them. Instead the family got a bright blue plastic pool, complete with painted fish on the bottom and a few minutes later the beer had been emptied into it.

Fili and Kili stood before their project grinning like twin idiots. They had even changed into swim trunks.

“After you brother,” Fili stated, waving the younger in. Kili didn’t need any more coaxing. He eased himself into the plastic tub careful only for the sake of not spilling any beer over the sides.

Fili plopped down beside him less gracefully and received a scowl when some drink did in fact go over the edges.

The frown quickly turned into a grin when Fili handed him a straw, popping the other into his mouth.

They each leaned against opposite sides, straws stuck into the beer bath, slurping in complete contentment for a summer afternoon.

“Now this is a real bubble bath,” Fili smirked with a beard full of foam.

A roar came from the house.

Dwalin must have discovered the emptied keg.

Had either of the two young Durins possessed a sense of self-preservation, they might have got up to run. Though running from Dwalin usually proved futile anyway.

Sure enough, the bear-like man came barrelling through the back doors, shaking his fists and cursing the stupidity of youth. He stomped across the grassy yard, growling the entire journey until he was before the pool, and stared down at the offending duo.

“That’s disgusting,” he growled, “And even worse, you’ve wasted the beer.”

Two wide eyes peered up at him innocently. Fili withdrew a third straw from places unknown and held it out to Dwalin wordlessly.

He looked at the straw, the pool, back to Fili, and then accepted the peace offering and collapsed to the grassy floor.

The three remained there silently slurping.

Frerin had come across the group of them like this and though Fili had somehow managed to produce a fourth straw, he only joined in for a moment before Thrain caught the lot of them and lectured them about spoiling their dinner with too much drink.

Ironically, when Thrain returned to the house he received his own lecture from his wife, Freya, about giving proper lectures and not even knowing himself what was wrong with filling a pool full of beer.

Still, like well-scolded puppies, Fili and Kili climbed out of the pool and the four of them all stared down in wonder at what they were supposed to do with the rest.

“I don’t suppose we could get it back in the keg?” asked Fili.

“Dumping in the sewage should be fine,” said Dwalin.

“Maybe it could water the lawn…” said Kili.

“Or…” Frerin started, scratching his blonde chin, “we could light it on fire to burn it up and make our problem disappear!”

Dwalin nodded along slowly, while Fili and Kili looked eagerly at one another.

“I’ll get a lighter!” The younger cried, racing into the house while the other three laughed.

Thorin watched from his seat on the porch as Kili raced across the lawn, into the house and returned seconds later waving a butane lighter. It wasn’t difficult to put two and two together from there.

He turned to Dis seated beside him. “Shouldn’t you tell him that beer isn’t flammable?”

She shrugged carelessly. “It will keep them all busy until dinner at least.”

Thorin really couldn’t argue with that.

 

 

 

 

“So, how are the designs coming along for the new partner?” Thrain asked later, when everyone had washed up (some needing a little more washing than others) and gathered around the table.

“He doesn’t really know what he wants, so it’s expectedly slow. But I will manage as always.” Frerin answered with a seriousness that was only reserved for business talks with his father.

“And the national bank?” Thrain continued, looking across at Thorin.

He gave a deep nod. “There are a few regulation requirements that call for adjustments, but I should be finished within the week.”

“Boys,” Freya interrupted. “What have I said about business talk at the table?”

Thrain placed his large hand over hers. “Now come, dear. It’s no different then asking them how their week has been.”

“Then simply ask them how their week has been,” she chided.

Thrain turned to Dis then. “Dis, how has your week been? And please don’t hold back on any details, except those regarding work. That’s a taboo topic around here.”

“It was lovely, thanks for asking,” she smiled far too sweetly back.

“And you, Thorin?”

“Fine,” he muttered, determined not to get involved in the parental warfare.

Dis' apparently lovely week did not mean that she would be merciful tonight. “And how is dear Bilbo doing?” She asked with all the innocence of a fox in a hen house.

“Bilbo?” Interrupted a chorus around the table. “Who’s Bilbo?”

Dis threw Thorin an expectant look and he sunk further into his chair, hoping if he somehow became one with the seat he could avoid explaining the delicate situation and miscommunication between himself and his sister.

Dis continued on anyway, seeming perfectly at ease with giving her own explanation. “He was the friend I met over at Thorin’s place the other week.”

Dwalin snorted. “Thorin doesn’t have friends. There’s work colleagues that he’s forced to play nice with and family that he’s forced to love. Frerin's the only one with a constant rotation of "friends".”

“There's nothing wrong with just having a bit of fun without putting a label on the relationship,” said Frerin, slinging an arm around Thorin’s shoulder.

Freya gave Frerin a smack across the back of the head. “I know I raised you better than that,” she said.

“-All I know," Dis soldiered on, ignoring the interruptions, "is that he was a handsome stranger, there in the morning, and only half dressed.”

This time it was Frerin who snorted. “I’m calling bullshit. If he was handsome, there’s no way he would stick around Thorin.”

Freya smacked Frerin again.

“But he was far too comfortable for someone hardly covered up to just be a one-night stand,” Dis argued, then turned to Thorin, “I hope to see him around again. He was so charming and seemed like a lovely fellow.”

“Which brings me back to the point about why this guy would hang around our brother.” Frerin repeated, this time he ducked under the incoming swat. Freya countered by stomping on his foot.

The other Durin siblings seemed content to ignore Frerin anyway. Thorin eyed Dis, his back straightened defensively. “You seem to think you know a lot about a man you spoke to for all of five seconds.”

Dwalin laughed then, loud and obnoxious. “Oh, look at how protective he gets,” he said between chuckles.

“Thorin dear,” Freya said, reaching across the table and squeezing his hand. “We’ve talked about possessive behaviour. It’s not endearing at your age anymore. You’ll never keep this one if you continue to behave like that.”

“From what I’ve heard: handsome, charming, and cheerful, he won’t be around for long anyway.” Frerin chimed in most unhelpfully.

Thorin glared over at his brother. “For your information, I can hold a relationship just fine,” he said, growling in a way that seemed to help Frerin’s argument much more than his own. “And- And you can ask Bilbo about it if you don’t believe me.”

Thorin’s eyes grew large. The looks of his surrounding family seemed a mix of shock and amusement. Frerin nudged Dis with his elbow and they shared a victorious smirk. “So you _are_ together then?” He asked knowingly.

Thorin swallowed. It was time to back pedal before he got himself in any more trouble. “Yes.” Well shit. “Yes we are.”

“Oh, I’m so happy for you, Thorin,” said Freya, patting his hand affectionately.

He mumbled a thank you and looked down at the table, trying to hide his growing flush.

“And it must be pretty serious if you’re already bedding him,” Freya continued with little regard for appropriate dining conversation.

“I’d rather keep my personal life, personal. Thank you.” Thorin replied as evenly as possible.

“I second that,” said Dis. “I have no desire to know what you get up to beneath the sheets.”

There was a chorus of agreement around the table and the topic was thankfully shifted to his nephews, in particular Kili and his upcoming wedding. He gave updates and let his mother and grandmother know what they could do to help, as well as discussed the construction of an awning for the venue with Dwalin and Frerin.

The conversation around him turned into a mere buzz as Thorin continued to stare down at his plate. He was in trouble now.

Big trouble.

 

 

 

* * *

 

  

 

Bilbo glared at the door in front of him. It may not have been much to the average person but it may as well have been an impenetrable wall at the moment.

He tried to shift around the grocery bags in his arms, but balancing four in one arm to free up a limb was unfeasible. Placing a bag or two on the ground was an option he supposed, but his groaning back protested the mere thought of having to bend over.

“Oh, hello Bilbo,” a friendly voice called from behind him.

He turned and saw a tall woman with dark hair crossing the street with purposeful strides. Was it an ex? Some fling from the past? She smiled as she came closer, so probably not a woman he had had any sort of sexual encounter with.

“Fancy running into you here,” she said, seeming much too pleased about this.

Was it so strange that he would be outside of his own apartment building?

He looked up at her, readying an apology for his lapse in memory when his brown eyes fell upon familiar blue ones.

“Ah, Thorin's sister, right? Dis?”

She nodded, pleased. “You need a hand? That’s an awful lot of groceries.”

“Oh no, I’m fine thanks.” She grabbed a bag anyway, “And yes it is a lot, though in my defence, not all mine. I take a bag to my neighbour, Ms. Higgins, every week. Her back isn’t quite what it used to be. Of course, mine isn’t either but I guess my griping about it isn’t as effective as hers.”

Dis nodded absently, leading the way into the building.

“So, you live here then?” she asked.

“Yeah, for just over a month now.”

Her jaw dropped and her eyes flashed with... shock? Anger? She recovered too quickly for Bilbo to confirm. He handed off two bags to Ms. Higgins, who greeted him warmly at her door before gingerly offering his now free arm to escort Dis up the stairs to her brother’s room.

Let it never be said that Bilbo Baggins was anything less than a gentleman.

They made their way to the second floor in silence and Dis knocked on Thorin’s door. Bilbo glanced up at her and when she met his eyes her face softened into something more genuine and a small smirk appeared on her lips.

“I’m happy to see that someone is getting groceries and making sure my brother eats properly,” she said quickly, before turning back to the door with an adjusted stern face.

The door swung open and Thorin froze on the other side. Dis looked unimpressed. Bilbo was extremely confused.

“Good afternoon, brother,” said Dis, breaking the moment of tension.

“Dis,” Thorin choked. “This is a surprise.”

“Well, today is just full of surprises, isn't it?”

Bilbo glanced between the two awkwardly. “Er- Maybe I should leave you two alone…”

“Oh no, no,” Dis answered, tightening her hold on Bilbo’s arm. “I would hate to put you out of your own home.”

“My own what?” Bilbo muttered, but he was already being tugged into the flat by a determined Dis, leaving Thorin still frozen by the door. “I was just stopping by to organize with my brother our next meeting with the wedding planner.”

She placed Bilbo’s grocery bag she had been carrying on the nearest counter and started unloading its contents absently. The two men sent looks back and forth, a mixture of confusion and panic.

“You could have just called,” Thorin said, slowly regaining his composure.

Dis was unloading eggs and cheese into the fridge but paused to shoot him a heated look. “I tried. You never answered your phone.”

Thorin mumbled an apology. Dis ignored him easily and Bilbo watched with muted horror as she tucked _his_ tea, into _Thorin’s_ bare cupboards. He was at risk of going into shock. Dis was still talking but Bilbo was unable to take in anything once the tomatoes disappeared into the fridge.

He threw another bewildered look at Thorin, silently begging him to _do something_ , but Thorin seemed to be dealing with his own shocked system.

Bilbo could hardly see why. He was the one that was pillaging all of Bilbo’s food after all.

“–And I know this is twice I’ve intruded in on you. I’m sorry. I promise I’m not always this invasive.” Dis’ voice finally reached Bilbo’s ears. “I just had absolutely no idea that things between the two of you were so serious.” The two men exchanged looks of further panic. “Thorin hardly ever talks about his personal life.”

“No, he really doesn’t, does he?” said Bilbo, a few pieces finally seeming to fall into place.

Dis turned to Thorin then. “One month? Bilbo’s been living here a month and you never thought you should mention that?”

“No– it’s not like that–” Thorin stuttered.

He was ignored again.

“I don’t suppose he’s mentioned anything about the wedding to you either?” Dis asked, turning back to Bilbo.

“Nothing at all.”

“Well, it’s my son that’s getting married, Thorin’s nephew, and we’re hopefully meeting the wedding planner next week. Though the planner is a distant cousin of ours so it will really just be a regular Saturday barbeque and you are more than welcome to come. In fact, I’m going to tell mother to set an extra plate already. It’s about time that the family met you.” Dis paused in consideration. “That is, of course, only if you can,” she amended, more sheepish now. “It would be lovely to have some civilized company there after all.”

Bilbo smiled at her. “Next week?”

“Yes. Saturday.”

He turned his grin to Thorin and it morphed to something a bit more impish. “I guess I will have to check my schedule.”

Her returning smile was dazzling. And she threw one more disapproving look at Thorin before making a hasty exit not dissimilar to the last time the three of them were in this kitchen.

 

 

 

 

Thorin locked the door behind his sister with perhaps a little more force than was strictly necessary.

He walked back into the kitchen where Bilbo waited, leaning against the counter with an amused smile. All things considered, Thorin counted himself lucky that Bilbo was taking this all so lightly.

“I’m going to need you to fill me in here because I feel like I may have missed a few steps in our relationship,” the smaller man grinned.

“There is no relationship.”

“And yet, your sister seemed so utterly convinced that we were living together.” Thorin flinched, Bilbo’s smile turned into a smirk as he continued, “So, while I pillage your cupboards for that canister of tea _I_ bought, would you care to explain what is going on?”

He moved through the small kitchen then, opening and closing cupboards while Thorin sat on the nearest bar stool in defeat.

“Well– Yes, my sister… along with most of my family, may think that we’re dating.”

“Uh-huh." Bilbo found the kettle tucked away in the low corner cupboard, filled it with water, and set it on the stove to boil. “And why would they think that?”

“It’s complicated.” Thorin answered, his face falling into his hands.

He looked up in time to see Bilbo give an unamused glower over his shoulder.

Thorin braced himself. “It’s probably because last week I told them that we were.”

Bilbo snorted. “ _That_ is hardly complicated. In fact, it’s quite simple. And so is the solution. Tell them the truth, let everyone laugh at you for your absurd foolish moment, and then move on.”

But it wasn’t that simple. “You don’t know my family,” Thorin tried to explain. “Trust me, nothing is simple with them.”

It only took two guesses for Bilbo to find the mugs and he placed one on the counter with a sigh. “Alright then, we go for the second simple solution. We show up together, play the role of happy couple, give it a few weeks and then you announce our tragic break up.”

“You– You would do that?”

“Of course I would, Thorin.” He smiled beatifically.

Thorin’s small, appreciative smile faltered. “And just what is your generosity going to cost me?”

“Not a dime,” said Bilbo. “I simply want free access to your place whenever I find myself in a position where I need to relocate myself outside of my own flat.”

“You want to use my home as a permanent hide out.”

“Exactly.”

Thorin’s head fell into his hands again. He could feel a headache coming on fast.

The kettle whistled. Thorin lifted his head again and watched his neighbour silently.

Bilbo removed the kettle from the heat swiftly and poured a steady stream into the cup, adding a spoonful of sugar and then turning to face Thorin with another one of his confident smiles. As if he already knew what Thorin’s answer would be.

And he did know. They both did.

“I’m not giving you the key or anything,” said Thorin carefully.

“That’s fine.”

“And I work during the week so you won’t be able to use it while I’m gone.”

“I have a job and responsibilities too, Thorin.”

"It wouldn't be indefinitely. Just until we're done with my family."

"I guess that's fair."

…

Well there wasn’t really any other amendments he needed to make.

“Oh and I also get free range of your kitchen and food,” said Bilbo, straightening up. “Only fair considering most of what’s stocking your cupboards now is mine.”

Thorin nodded, “That seems reasonable.

“So we have a deal?”

Bilbo extended his hand. Thorin looked at it warily.

He reached out and enclosed it in his own much bigger hand.

“Deal.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alternatively Titled: A Deal With the Devil


End file.
